


Not Sorry

by Weaponized



Series: Invisibuck [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Breathplay, Bucky is deeply insecure, Emotional Porn, Feeding, Invisibility, Invisible Bucky Barnes, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shrunkyclunks, Spanking, Steve just wants to praise him, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaponized/pseuds/Weaponized
Summary: “Bucky?”“Bucky, I know you’re in here.”“Bucky, if you don’t come out, I’m going to go out to eat dinner without you, and leave you locked in here to try and cook for yourself. We both know that won’t end well.”Minutes of silence passed. Steve sighed and gave up, turning to fetch his jacket and bike keys from the bedroom. He had tried waiting patiently, bribery, asking questions he knew Bucky would feel compelled to answer but Bucky was clearly otherwise occupied in his invisible state. Probably having a crisis over his identity. Like he did every day.ORInvisibuck Part II
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Invisibuck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984928
Comments: 52
Kudos: 280





	Not Sorry

“Bucky?”

“Bucky, I know you’re in here.”

“Bucky, if you don’t come out, I’m going to go out to eat dinner without you, and leave you locked in here to try and cook for yourself. We both know that won’t end well.”

Minutes of silence passed. Steve sighed and gave up, turning to fetch his jacket and bike keys from the bedroom. He had tried waiting patiently, bribery, asking questions he knew Bucky would feel compelled to answer (“What’s the point of making a Twitter profile private? It’s for _sharing_ ”, “Should I buy a cowboy hat? Lil Nas X has made it a good look now, and I _am_ Captain America”) but Bucky was clearly otherwise occupied in his invisible state. Probably having a crisis over his identity. Like he did every day.

Steve paused before the door to the elevator, his constant desire for Bucky to see what he did was overwhelming. Bucky was young, beautiful, damaged and frighteningly intelligent. However, he was not just invisible to the naked eye, but invisible to himself, too.

“I’ll be back later, Buck,” he sighed, “and yeah I’m locking you in here. Don’t try and leave.”

The elevator doors opened and he slouched inside, leaning up against the back wall.

“JARVIS, he can leave if he asks to. But don’t talk to him until he does.”

“Certainly, Captain,” JARVIS’s voice sounded very slightly hesitant, but Steve ignored it.

He knew that JARVIS was concerned that he was being controlling over his relationship, because that was exactly what everybody said about it. Tony with his ‘Stockholm boyfriend’ quotes especially. Yeah, Steve had accidentally apprehended a sneakthief and turned him into his live-in boyfriend in the space of a month, and yeah, maybe Bucky loudly went around saying Steve was holding him against his will, but he hadn’t asked for this to happen, and Bucky also didn’t leave—even when Steve had a breakdown over being a predator and briefly even asked to quit having anything to do with Bucky Barnes.

After that, Bucky had calmed down the sarcastic comments about how Steve had kidnapped him. But then he had slowly slid into saying nothing at all. And he appeared in solid, visible flesh even less than the scant times he had before, too. Even at night sometimes Steve wouldn’t see him, only feel him silently curl up on top of the duvet, making a soft dent, and Steve had to wait until he was asleep to gently lift him and tuck him under the covers.

The elevator hit the parking garage level but the doors remained closed. After a moment, JARVIS spoke. “Captain, Mr. Barnes has asked me to let him leave.”

“Fuck,” Steve folded his arms tightly, squeezing his hands into fists. Trust Bucky to figure out in minutes that he had left a caveat to his treatise and exploit it. He really was a master of running away from his problems.

Steve struggled for a moment, desperate to say no, go straight back upstairs and tell Bucky that this was unfair. But he had told JARVIS to let him go if he asked for a reason. He wanted Bucky to want to stay. “I guess… let him leave then,” he said stiffly, “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Very good, Captain.”

Steve kicked at the velvety tarmac of the parking garage as he made his way to his bike. The air was crisp and cool, but frustration was heating him up like a pressure cooker, his entire body hot under his leather jacket. He had resisted the urge to go back upstairs and make demands, but how much of that was because he was actually taking the higher ground and doing what was right, and how much was because he knew that Bucky could easily evade him and his words of comfort?

It grated at him. Steve Rogers wasn’t used to second guessing his own instincts.

Bucky had him beat. He could evade Steve’s senses, disappearing so completely that only JARVIS’s heat sensors could detect him, and moving so quietly, holding his breath for so long, that not even supersoldier ears could find him. But more important than his slippery skills, he had Steve in an emotional choke hold. What kind of relationship were they in when all they did was literally share a space, fuck occasionally when Bucky was in the mood, and avoid each other by acting like they were alone.

The wind roared alongside the purr of the engine as Steve cruised at a casual 90 down the ring road. He tried for a few minutes to just focus on the traffic and the soothing balm of the rushing wind over his neck, but all too soon the traitorous thought that had been pushing at the edges of his awareness broke through.

Where would Bucky go now?

Steve knew he had a place to live, a place he had been living for years and where he, presumably, kept his ill gotten gains. Bucky had never told him where it was.

Next question, how long would it take Bucky to come back?

Steve wasn’t sure if this counted as a fight, and he wasn’t sure if Bucky was angry with him specifically, or something else. Or if he was even angry at all. He was free to leave the apartment in Stark Tower any time he liked, so why had he waited for Steve to leave, and specifically state that he was locked in, to change that?

Pumping the brakes on his joyride Steve brought the Harley squealing into a narrow gap between two illegally parked SUVs. Who needed an SUV in the middle of Manhattan, he thought to himself irritably and had to soften the whip of his foot as he kicked the stand open and dragged himself onto the sidewalk.

The view clear over the water to Brooklyn was full of orange sunbeams and twinkling lights. Usually the view from this particular stretch of Manhattan’s shoreline was nothing special, but with the added magic of dusk falling over the industrial landscape, it transformed into something drowsy and seductive. 

After staring for a while and brooding over the revolving door of his thoughts—long enough for the dusk magic to evaporate and the night to take over—Steve found himself looking down at his phone. He flipped to his text conversation with Bucky. He hadn’t exactly embraced texting in the new century, and most other people were perfectly happy to accommodate his preference for calling. Bucky, however, point blank refused to pick up the phone when it rang. As he put it, ‘Millenials don’t know what that green button means, Steve’. Which was deliciously ironic, because before he got a smartphone, neither did Steve.

He thought about sending a text. Adding to the menial conversations and cat memes that Bucky sent him occasionally.

‘I’m sorry’ was a lie. ‘I told you to stay’ felt like too much—too far. Even though that was what he really wanted to send.

Steve put his phone back into his pocket and rubbed the fingers of one hand into his eye socket, pressing on the muscles until his vision went white behind his lids.

He would just go home and sleep on it. Eat some crap that was probably in his freezer, first, because his insides felt hollow and surely only part of it was his sinking emotional gut. The rest was definitely his struggling supersoldier metabolism. Still, he took it slower on the way home than he had on the way out.

The apartment was dark and cool when he got there. Nothing had been moved or changed. Bucky hadn’t left any notes or even taken his own clothes that were left strewn about in messy heaps. Steve wasn’t surprised though, Bucky seemed to impress himself upon the space in great bursts—either he was carefully floating, hiding, barely making an impression, or he was everywhere, obnoxiously taking up all of Steve’s attention and leaving signs of his colonization of Steve’s space all over the apartment. The bathroom was full of nice smelling soaps and products that Bucky barely seemed to use, but hoarded with delight. His clothes were everywhere, and little sparkly things multiplied in heaps on every surface.

Tossing his keys and jacket aside, Steve shoved at the screens that divided off the kitchen from the rest of the apartment and pulled open the fridge. He chugged from the carafe of filter water that magically regenerated when he wasn’t looking, while he considered his options. Cheese, salad (ugh), leftover spaghetti. He grabbed the spaghetti and a fork and began shovelling it into his mouth cold, nudging the fridge closed and quitting the kitchen for the darkened living area. He pushed a stray pile of crystals linked in a long strand off the sofa and onto the floor, throwing himself down in their place and chewing absentmindedly.

He needed to stop stewing on what had gone wrong, or what he had personally done wrong. He hadn’t done anything differently which meant he couldn’t have done anything wrong. And laying the blame wasn’t going to help anyone anyway.

Twizzling the last of the spaghetti, Steve discarded the bowl on the coffee table. Or he tried to. Somehow it glanced right off and went clattering to the floor, the spoon bouncing with a ringing metallic sound.

Steve swore and swung his feet back to the rug, leaning his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingers into his temples.

“Ow,” said a soft voice.

Steve wasn’t proud of the violent reaction that wracked him. He almost toppled the sofa and the lamp next to it when he leaped to his feet.

“Bucky?” His voice was unbearably loud.

The air above the table shivered and solidified into a familiar figure, sitting cross legged and hands clasped.

“Bucky,” Steve said this time, relief flooding his body from head to toe like submerging into warm water. “Bucky, you…”

_You didn’t leave. You knew you could go but you didn’t. You also just watched me have an entire adult sized tantrum. Fuck._

He sat back down abruptly and resisted his gut instinct to grab his erstwhile boyfriend and not let go, ever. “Bucky, I’m–” No he was not going to say sorry.

Bucky just watched him, his eyes clear but his mouth downturned and tight.

“You’re still here,” Steve settled on.

Bucky raised his eyebrows slowly, “You locked me in.”

“No I didn’t. You knew JARVIS would let you out if you asked.”

The downturn on Bucky’s mouth eased a little, “Yeah, I guess I did. Nice dinner?” he eyed the upturned bowl on the floor.

Steve leaned back into the cushions, trying to appear relaxed, probably failing. “Nah. Guess I didn’t feel like eating without you.”

“Oh, romance.”

They stared at one another for a long moment, the dim light from the kitchen limning Bucky’s cheekbone in gold. He was hunched over, palms pressed together. He looked like he was tense in every muscle in his body and it was painful for Steve to see. He needed to know what their problem was.

“Bucky,” he began softly, “why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m… not,” Bucky’s eyes slid sideways as he spoke. He knew he was lying.

Steve reached forward and brushed the back of his hand across a set of bare toes, “Yes, you are.”

Bucky gritted his teeth, “Okay. I don’t know why, then.”

Steve reeled himself back in. Bucky was still here and he had come close by as soon as Steve had come home. How he managed to stay so quiet that Steve’s enhanced senses completely missed his heartbeat and breathing was probably more to do with Steve being distracted by his own churning emotions than Bucky’s incredible ability to move silently, but it was still stupid of him to have presumed that Bucky had run off and not come back. This was supposed to be his home now, too. Not just Steve’s.

“Did you eat?” he asked eventually.

Bucky shifted minutely, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Not hungry.”

Steve stood up, slowly, and walked back towards the glowing kitchen space. He opened the sliding doors properly this time, tucking them back into their niche in the wall and taking care not to slam anything. “I’m gonna make you some dinner, okay?”

Bucky hadn’t moved, but he watched steadily. “Alright,” he muttered, sounding as if he really wanted to say no but hadn’t been able to evaluate just how Steve would react. If he was honest with himself, Steve didn’t know how he would react either. Probably not in any way that was rational, if his entire catalogue of history with the person currently sitting on his coffee table was anything to go by.

Soon, the smell of onion and garlic was filling the apartment. Steve kept glancing back over at the living area as he chopped and stirred. He wasn’t the world’s greatest chef, but Bucky probably hadn’t eaten all day, and despite his little mental pep talk that he had nothing to do with Bucky’s visible absences and tightly wound temperament, he couldn’t prevent the subconscious guilt that rinsed his insides every time he tried and failed to make Bucky accept his requests for company.

Suddenly Bucky was beside him in the kitchen, slithering silently to sit up on the counter.

“Get down from there, Bucky,” he admonished as gently as he could, “you’ll get burned.”

Bucky didn’t listen, but Steve didn’t expect him to.

As he tended to the pan, watching all the time out the corner of his eye, he mulled over what he knew about Bucky and his issues. Steve himself had a therapist who he tortured occasionally with his mental state. He had learned how to parse out his stresses and lay them side by side to handle. If he were Bucky, what would he be thinking to make him want to be so… absent.

The truth was, Steve had always been making himself the center of attention, even when he was a featherweight with lung rot. He couldn’t even imagine being so unsure, or unconfident, or in pain—whatever Bucky was.

But maybe he could help, if only he could make Bucky see him as Steve did. As he cooked, he formed a fantasy in his head of Bucky blushing and smiling and letting Steve tell him how wonderful he was and sighed longingly.

Soon enough, a large omelette, smothered in cheese and filled with vegetables, was steaming on a plate. Steve collected a fork and a glass of water and made his way back to the sofa. “Come here and get your dinner, Buck.”

Bucky followed slowly, hovering by the TV as Steve set the plate on the table and settled himself back into the soft upholstery, picking up one of the fatter throw cushions to drop on the floor by his feet.

“Sit on the cushion.”

A look of uncertainty warred with raw curiosity on Bucky’s face. He flicked his gaze down to the cushion, and then back up to meet Steve’s, analysing. “You’re going to feed me?” he asked in a small voice.

Steve held up the fork in a loose riposte, “Yup.”

Bucky swallowed. “You’re going to feed me… on the floor?”

Not ‘You want to’, but ‘you are going to’. That was a good sign, right? Steve said, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t until Bucky was lowering himself to his knees on the cushion that he let himself believe that this was going to happen and he wouldn’t simply be left with an empty room and have to sacrifice the plate at the altar of Bucky and make himself scarce. But there he was, not only visible but willingly coming and tucking himself up against Steve’s feet.

“Okay?” Steve picked up the plate.

Bucky blinked, “Okay.”

This close-up Steve could see the way his skin was puffy under his eyes and his hair was a little dirty. He was wearing some of Steve’s clingy thermal wear and a pair of sweatpants that were ludicrously large, tied tight at the drawstring. He looked insubstantial, even though he was solid and fully visible.

Steve leaned forward to pick up the plate and as he sat back again, he paused just a moment to press a gentle kiss to a pale cheekbone. “Open up, sweetie.”

Bucky dropped his head to hide a smile, probably because that was something Steve only said when Bucky was about to suck his dick. At least he was smiling and not frowning or disappearing, Steve told himself as he waited, not a little awkwardly, for Bucky to lift his head and open his mouth.

After squirming for a while, Bucky very gently placed one hand on Steve’s ankle and leaned forward expectantly. Steve scooped a little omelet onto the fork and held it out.

Bucky let the small mouthfuls slowly clear the plate, and the more he ate, the more at ease Steve felt, until he was gently running the fingertips of one hand up and down Bucky’s sharp, prominent jaw for every morsel he leaned in to accept.

They had never done feeding before, although Bucky liked to steal Steve’s food, get in the way and have things done for him, but even if he did want to have something like this for their relationship, Steve knew he would never ask. That was why Steve had decided to try it, even knowing how awkward it would be.

The loose grip on his ankle tightened and he watched as Bucky turned to the side to chew his food and swallow without the dangers of eye contact.

“I like feeding you,” Steve murmured into the silence.

Bucky licked his lips and looked up. There was definitely surprise in his eyes when he blinked and held Steve’s gaze. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded and ran his fingers down the back of a small ear and around the back of Bucky’s neck, cupping the back of his head in one palm. He held it there as he slid another forkful of egg and vegetables into Bucky’s mouth. “Mm hm. Makes me feel good.”

Bucky looked doubtful, “It– It does?”

The hopeful edge to those words told Steve that he wasn’t totally fucking up, so he set the fork on the plate and set it down on the table, shifting where he sat to widen the gap between his legs and subtly tuck Bucky into it. He leaned forward and slid both his hands into soft, brown curls. “Yeah, Buck. Do you like it when I feed you?”

Bucky bit his lip, but after a moment of gazing opaquely up at Steve’s face, he nodded. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Steve squeezed gently, working his fingertips against a warm scalp.

“Mm.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mm hm.”

“Buck,” Steve leaned down, folding his body so he could put his lips close to Bucky’s cheek, glowing with a blush that Steve knew he would be angry at himself for. “Buck, do you wanna kiss me?”

Bucky squirmed for a second before he stilled again and tried to nod.

“Words, Buck.”

He shifted a little more and his eyes flicked up and down again, “Yeah I wanna kiss you, Steve,” he breathed.

So Steve pulled him in and pressed their lips together, giving in a little to the desire to just wrap Bucky up in his arms and smother him in affection. He wanted to push through all this self-doubt that was preventing Bucky from admitting to himself what he wanted, sweep it away and just overwhelm him with care. But he couldn’t do that unless Bucky was letting himself be seen. He was done with Bucky being invisible and blind to what they had.

Bucky broke away from their kiss with a gasp, lips lustrous and pink and his eyes bright, and Steve realised he had pulled Bucky right up off the floor and halfway into his lap. Loosening his grip on the fluffy, warm mass of curls, he slid his hands to Bucky’s waist instead, pulling him up and onto the sofa’s cushions.

“Sorry,” he soothed, “I just can’t help trying to hold on to you when I get the chance, y’know.”

Bucky settled against him comfortably, but narrowed his eyes at the comment.

Steve smiled into the suspicious expression, “Oh you don’t believe me?” he pinched his fingers tighter on narrow, hard hip bones, “You don’t think I’m here grabbing at you because I just wanna keep you tucked in my pocket every hour of every day?”

Bucky assumed a haughty expression, brushing off Steve’s words, but he was betrayed by the pink flush deepening on his neck and cheeks.

“You don’t think,” Steve continued, obnoxiously pushing his nose into Bucky’s neck and laying down kisses over kisses, “that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?”

Bucky made a sad little noise.

Steve ignored it. “Cos you are, Buck. I think you’re gorgeous and I wanna put you in my pocket.”

He was being playful with his kisses and nose rubs and tight cuddles, but Bucky wasn’t fooled and the steely strain of the muscles in his back did not ease even when Steve pulled him back in for a long kiss, nipping at the soft flesh of his lips and tipping his head back to better feel the slow thump of his heartbeat against one palm, resting loosely against Bucky’s throat.

Eventually, Steve pulled back from the kiss and opened his eyes, only to think for the thousandth time that he was glad he had a blackout on JARVIS’s cameras upon pain of death, because Bucky had vanished in his arms. “Buck,” he whispered and pulled the body in his arms close, hugging him and burying his nose in warm curls. “Bucky, come back.”

Bucky curled up against him and shivered, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“No,” Steve clutched tighter, “Don’t be sorry. Be visible, Buck.”

“I can’t–” Steve could hear an edge in his voice, “I just don’t want… you to see me. Steve.”

Alright. Even if he was currently half hard, super horny and ready to devour the body in his arms, he was finally getting Bucky to say things that might direct him which way to go, so he couldn’t just throw Bucky on the rug and lick him from head to toe like his dick was telling him to.

Swallowing, he stroked his fingers up and down the firm bumps of Bucky’s spine. “Why don’t you want me to see you, Buck?”

The palm resting on Bucky’s neck could feel the heartbeat his ears couldn’t detect, and he felt Bucky swallow under his fingers, too.

“I just… I don’t like it when people see me being…”

Silence wrapped them like a smothering blanket. Steve felt the heat of Bucky’s skin on his and deduced that he must be flushed with embarrassment.

It was time to just say some things, baldly.

“Buck. I know that you are invisible a lot, yeah.”

Bucky nodded somewhere he couldn’t see, but he could feel.

“And I know that you’re more used to being alone than you are being with me.”

Bucky tilted his head rather than nodding.

“But you like it when I do things for you, though. Yeah?”

There was a long pause before Bucky nodded this time, but when he did, it was with surety.

Steve let his hand press a little more fully against collarbones and throat, “And I like doing things for you, too. If only you’ll let me do them.”

Buck didn’t nod anymore, but his weight was angled into Steve’s grip, his neck pliant and the muscles of his back finally starting to come a little loose.

“So I was thinking,” Steve let himself shift until they were hip to hip, nothing hidden, one hand on the back of a warm, soft head and the other loosely pressed to Bucky’s throat. “I thought that I’d like to _teach_ you some stuff.”

He may not be able to see it, but he could very clearly feel the confusion that radiated off Bucky at that.

“What I mean is,” he said slowly and clearly, “positive reinforcement.”

It took a moment, during which Steve let his fingers rest snugly against the hollow under Bucky’s jaw, but just as Steve was preparing to speak again, the body in his lap glitched back into visibility. The strange visual sensation of having his eyes played tricks on was not something Steve thought he would ever get used to.

Bucky was looking into his face with an expression that was a little hopeful, but a lot more apprehensive. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Now that everything was viewable again, Steve allowed himself a moment to look hungrily at the soft curve of shoulder and the way Bucky’s skin was so pleasingly shaded by the dim kitchen lamps.

“I mean, when you let me fuckin’ cuddle you, tell you how beautiful you are and buy you dinner, I’ll reward you for it. And when you don’t…”

Dark grey eyes were fixed on his, now, most of Bucky’s usual avoidance of eye contact and parallel communication forgotten as he hung onto every word. “When I don’t?”

Steve chose his next words quite carefully, because even though he knew from hours of experience handling the lithe and wiry body in his lap that Bucky had good physical reactions to what he was about to suggest, they had never talked about it. Pressing both palms into Bucky’s waist, he leaned up to look into his face properly, letting his eyes flick from lips, to silvery eyes, back to lips.

“When you don’t let me worship you? Then I’m going to have to punish you.” He squeezed harder and felt the delicious nip of his thumbs catching on ribs.

Bucky wriggled a little and hummed, but when he spoke, his voice had dropped lower and he was leaning closer, “Punish me how?”

“I’ve got some ideas.”

Bucky’s wriggling turned into a definite suggestion at the tone of Steve’s voice, his hips pressing firmly downwards and his spine softening.

Steve rubbed his hands up and down, slowly petting, “You wanna hear my ideas?”

Bucky was nodding before the words had even left Steve’s lips, his expression full of curiosity, but no longer surprise.

Steve slid his hands down until he could squeeze at Bucky’s ass, “Or maybe, I should just show you. Because honestly, Buck, you’ve been pretty much miserable for two days now, huh.”

Bucky hadn’t figured out yet if he was going to really enjoy the punishment or if it was actually going to be disciplinary, so his little whine and confused pout were accompanied by some apprehension.

Steve squeezed at his handfuls of soft flesh. Bucky was toned to the point of slenderness, but his thighs and ass were generous to the point of irresistible, and Steve had decided about 20 minutes earlier what exactly he wanted to do, so it was with premeditated precision that he lifted Bucky and himself right up off the sofa, spun Bucky around until his back was pressed to Steve’s chest, and then sat them back down.

Bucky peeked back at him questioningly over his shoulder, probably wondering what kind of punishment could possibly entail reverse cowgirl.

Steve smiled at him and reached down to gently pull one of Bucky’s feet up onto the cushions, rubbing at his ankle and nuzzling at the back of his neck to distract him as Steve pulled the second foot up until Bucky was kneeling.

“What are you gonna do to me?” Bucky asked, putting his hands on Steve’s knees and testing out the leverage he could get in this position by rubbing himself against Steve’s crotch shamelessly. “This doesn’t seem like much of a punishment.”

Steve nuzzled into the back of a small ear and whispered, “You can ride me like this later if you want, cowgirl.”

Bucky shuddered with laughter and put one hand over his face, “Oh, God. Never say that again.”

“What, you don’t think I’m all-American enough to make cowboy puns? Yeehaw.” Steve continued to nuzzle and cuddle, lulling Bucky into a sense of safety and relaxed enjoyment. He smoothed both palms up the inside of Bucky’s thighs and spent a few moments rubbing at the soft fabric and the warm skin beneath.

Bucky put his hands over Steve’s and turned his head until they were nose to nose, “I’m just curious where you learned what this position is called, Steve. You been unsupervised on the internet again?”

“Well I kept waiting for you to give me a demonstration, but a guy waits around all day for you and still gets completely _ghosted_.”

Making Bucky laugh like he did at Steve’s acclimation to the modern American vernacular was fine, but he wasn’t going to lose sight of his goal now. The coffee table was the perfect distance away, and Bucky was wearing the perfect outfit for exactly what Steve had in mind. Ignoring the wriggling and the way Bucky’s mouth on his was distracting in the extreme, he brought his fingers to the drawstring that was the only thing keeping the sweatpants around Bucky’s waist and pulled it loose. Then he worked the fingers of one hand into the small of Bucky’s back and gently began to push him forward.

He went slowly, gradually leaning forward as Steve laid kisses to his jaw, shoulder and then down his back.

Soon enough, Bucky got the idea and reached his hands out to place both palms down on the edge of the table, laying himself flat along Steve’s thighs. 

Steve watched him try out the position, turning to glance back over his shoulder, and took in the view of him spread so openly. Bucky made a questioning sound and dipped his elbows a little to do a showy little push up. As if he could show off to the literal supersoldier.

Steve reached forward to ruffled at disordered, dirty curls, pressing his chest to Bucky’s over-extended spine. He could feel the press of sharp hip bones and Bucky’s half-interested cock on his thigh. “Comfy?” he asked, stroking his fingers over the rucked-up mess of a shirt above where the loosened sweats were revealing more smooth, pale flesh the more Bucky wriggled.

“Mm—Am I supposed to be comfy?” Bucky asked, sliding his hands across the table’s surface and then back again slowly.

“No, I suppose not.” With his head and shoulders hanging in the void between sofa and table, Steve could already feel the way Bucky’s abs were clenching to keep him steady, and Steve only planned to make it more difficult for him. Sliding his hands over Bucky’s arms, he leaned down to grip the table’s hard wooden adge and draw it a little closer, close enough that should, say, Bucky’s weight fall forward very suddenly, the table would be close enough to catch him, rather than knock him out.

Then Steve leaned back against the sofa cushions and enjoyed the view.

“So how many times should I spank you, do you think?”

Bucky went very, very still.

When he spoke, his voice was thin, but every note of it was filled with anticipation. “Spank me?”

“Mm hm,” Steve hooked both his hands around the waistband of the soft, sleepy-scented cotton of Bucky’s sweats and began working them down over his hips, using his sheer strength to ensure that he had access to all of the creamy, soft skin of Bucky’s ass. Looking down at his lapful, it was with a sense of deep satisfaction that Steve knew that his plan to put his favourite ass at its best advantage had gone very well. Legs parted and bent forward to stretch out on the coffee table, everything Bucky had was on perfect display. Pushing the fabric of Bucky’s shirt further up his back, Steve curled his fingers around the extra-soft bit of chub right at the crease between thigh and torso, “Oh, that is a great view, Buck. Good enough to eat.”

“Oh, fuck,” he heard Bucky mutter, arms already trembling.

Kneading his palms into soft flesh, Steve enjoyed the way blood was already flushing the skin he touched. Deciding that Bucky was probably not up for thinking of an appropriate number, he decided for himself, “I’m going to spank this nice ass ten times. That sound fair?”

“Uhh,” was Bucky’s intelligent response, but he did nod after a moment, peeking back over his shoulder again with a tortured expression.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Steve loosened his grip and gave a few pats and strokes to Bucky’s ass instead, “don’t look so concerned.” Then more seriously, “If you want me to stop at any time, you just gotta tell me, alright?”

Bucky knew that well already, as Steve continued to check in with him constantly no matter how many times they fucked, so this nod was well practiced, even if his expression was unconvinced.

Steve took a handful of ass and jiggled it a little, “Look at that,” he said admiringly, ignoring the distressed sound Bucky made and squeezing his fingers tight enough to leave white marks behind when he let go. “Punishment for you, great view for me. It’s a win-win, because I know you’re gonna enjoy this, Buck.”

Steve was about to raise his hand and lay down the first word of his new-found law, when Bucky spoke again.

“What if I disappear by accident while you’re doing it?” he whispered.

Steve thought about it for a moment.

Then he laid his hand back in the small of Bucky’s back, pressing his palm down to feel the strain on shivering muscles. “If you disappear because you’ve lost control of your own body and you feel good, Buck, I’m not going to punish you for it. I’m going to praise you for letting me make you feel good. We clear?”

Bucky dropped his head between his shoulders, so Steve couldn’t see the expression on his face, but he could see the way rapid breaths were raising the delicate ribs that gilded a narrow waist.

Bucky raised his head enough again that Steve could see him nod, “Okay. Spank me, then.”

Steve did. His palm flat and hand open. The sound was full, like a satisfying clap, and Bucky squeaked in response, finally dropping to his elbows on the table.

“Oh,” he said, and it sounded like a revelation.

Steve paused and gauged his next move. Moving his aim to the other cheek, he used the same hand again to lay a second slap across it. The shiver that wracked Bucky’s body was accompanied by a gasp.

Steve laid his hand over the red palm print that had formed in the wake of his work. “Mm, knew you’d look good like this,” he dug his fingers in and felt Bucky tilt his hips down in response, attempting to subtly get friction against his gradually hardening dick. Steve let him do whatever he needed, for now, laying down a third smack—with his left hand this time—on the rounded, tender flesh further up.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped, “holy _shit_.”

A feeling of deep satisfaction punched through Steve’s fleeting wave of relief that Bucky wasn’t freaking out or otherwise hating this. He had known that Bucky liked being manhandled more than a little while they fucked, and it was obvious he liked being made to do things as an antidote to his crippling self-doubt, but as he lay across Steve’s knees like this, allowing himself to feel good, Steve felt the linger concern clear. He brought his hand down again.

The smacks weren’t hard when compared to the force Steve was actually capable of. He could smash down a drywall with one hand. Still, he wasn’t going lightly either, because Bucky wasn’t the type to go halves and frankly, neither was Steve.

By the fifth slap, Bucky’s ass cheeks were stained a bright pink, glowing luridly against the creamy skin of his thighs and back, and he had collapsed onto his arms on the coffee table, burying his nose and a few shocked breaths in the crook of his elbow.

Steve shifted his knees a little, feeling the way Bucky’s hips shifted in response, thighs flexing just enough to rub.

“Ah, ah, no humping my leg, Buck. When I’m done enforcing my affection, you can go to town, but until then, stop it.”

“Enforcing your _what_?” Bucky twisted his body around like a very lazy snake and tried to peek over his shoulder again.

Steve grabbed his hips to stop him moving and leaned down to kiss the small of his back. “You hid from me for a whole day, Buck,” He punctuated the words with a sharp, short slap that was his hardest yet, jolting Bucky’s body a little on his lap. “I’m laying down the law, no more hiding from me for a whole day.”

Bucky’s toes curled and he whined, “You could always get JARVIS to tell you where I am!”

“I don’t want to ask JARVIS to tell me where you are,” Steve laid a backhand on the taught, velvety skin between Bucky’s ass cheeks, close to his asshole, making Bucky squeal. “I want you to show me where you are.” And he laid a full-handed, but slightly gentler smack to the generous flesh of one hip, leaving his hand against the flesh to feel it jump and then heat beneath his fingers.

Bucky groaned and flexed his fingers on his arms, “I just… It’s not like I don’t want you to know where I am, it’s just…”

Steve paused his final two smacks to knead over the flesh he had already abused and wait for Bucky to finish his sentence. When no continuation came, he walked the fingers of his left hand slowly up the knobbly path of vertebrae that sloped down before him until he could lay his hand flat and stroke back and forth, gently. “Let’s talk about it later, Buck,” he said gently, “Stop thinking about it and just think about this.” And he laid down a stinging slap right across both cheeks.

Bucky writhed, almost sliding clean off the table and Steve’s lap if it hadn’t been for Steve quickly adjusting his grip. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, “ _Fuck_ —Steve!”

“Last one, Buck.” And because he liked to finish in style, he made sure to save the strongest slap til last, leaving a ringing sound and Bucky’s loud groan of pain and pleasure to dissipate throughout the room.

Now that they were done, Steve didn’t waste any time in hauling Bucky back up from his awkward position and gathering him into his arms in a bundle of limbs and smacking kisses to neck, ear, cheek, shoulder—anywhere he could get his mouth.

“C’mon,” he mumbled into the tousled nest of curls, “bedroom.”

Bucky let himself be carried, let Steve place him face-down on the bed, and only protested in a very small voice when Steve dragged his clothes off him, leaving him completely naked on top of the blankets. Then Steve collapsed dramatically onto the blankets and enfolded Bucky in his arms.

“You spanked me and now you’ve got your giant dick all pressed right up against my sore butt,” Bucky grumbled.

Steve huffed with laughter, “I do, don’t I.”

He wasted no time in getting his hands where he wanted them, sliding one to take a firm grip on Bucky’s cock, a little less perky than it had been during the actual spanking, which was interesting, but still hard and warm in his grip.

Bucky hummed in satisfaction, wrapping his strong, capable fingers over Steve’s, not to direct or set the pace, just to feel it. “Is this my reward?”

“No,” Steve mumbled into his hair, eyes glued on the sight of their hands moving together, adjusting his grip to slide the crook of his fingers over the tip, picking up the pace easier with the addition of Bucky’s precome, leaking in little bursts from his cock, “this is just what I want to do to you all the time, if only you’d let me.”

As Steve worked, Bucky’s breath grew heavy, and he bit his lip to try and keep quiet.

Slowing the rhythm of his strokes, Steve loosened his grip and flattened his fingers, rubbing his open palm in slow, teasing circles over the twitching flesh. With his other hand, the one tucked beneath Bucky’s shoulder, he reached up to tug Bucky’s lip free from his teeth, releasing a long, pleasure soaked moan. “Sweet,” he laid a kiss to Bucky’s ear.

Bucky clutched at his wrist, panting, “Steve. Wait. I’m gonna–”

Raising himself up on one arm so he could look down on the body under him properly, Steve trailed his free hand down until he could pinch cruelly at the bright-red flesh of Bucky’s backside, twisting and flicking his other wrist the way he knew Bucky liked.

Bucky arched his back and came, saying Steve’s name like it was a curse, his come speckling his chest and coating Steve’s hand. “Fuck, _Steve_.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve gently worked him through it, letting his fingers gather up the come and pushing it around on Bucky’s stomach and up his chest, swirling his finger tips before leaning down to lick a stripe through it all.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky’s breath was levelling out, “your filthy mouth, Steve.”

Steve lowered him gently to lie on his back, better to lick at the splatters of come and run his hands over all the visible planes and glorious softness of Bucky’s body.

Wincing only a little, Bucky sank his hands into Steve’s hair, petting at his head and neck, fingers clumsy in the aftermath of an intense orgasm. “Ugh. Stop it,” his muscles jumped under Steve’s mouth where he was ticklish, “I can’t, ngh–” he huffed with unwanted laughter and twisted away, groaning.

Steve chased him with his arms, wrapping them tight around Bucky’s waist and spreading his full bodyweight over a pair of long, weak legs. “Do you feel better,” he asked softly.

Bucky didn’t respond other than to begin slowly peeling himself up off the bedclothes.

Steve made a protesting noise and pushed him back down, “Uh uh.”

“How’m I gonna suck your dick if you won’t let me get up?” Bucky slurred.

“You wanna suck my dick, sweet boy?” Steve loomed over him, willing to abandon his questioning if it meant he got to tease.

Bucky hiccuped on a moan and covered his face with his hands, “Ugh, you’re unbearable.”

“Yeah,” Steve lent down to suck at soft, pink lips and push his tongue inside, licking and nipping. When he pulled back, caging Bucky in with his arms as he hovered over him, he opened his mouth and let a stream of spit fall from his lips. It hit cheekbone, mouth and chin, and was met by a loud, outraged exclamation.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Bucky tried to squirm away, but was completely trapped between Steve’s arms.

Laughing, Steve stuck his tongue out and let more saliva trail from his mouth. He wasn’t particularly into body fluids, or at least, he had never tried being into them before today, but he was deeply turned on by watching Bucky squirm and curse under him, trying to get his hands close enough to his face to wipe away the trails of shiny spit.

Soon enough, he did exactly what Steve expected, and vanished.

“Oh, no,” he dropped his weight down, pushing one thigh between Bucky’s knees and using the strength in his arms to hold himself low enough to kiss at where he knew Bucky’s face was without crushing him, flexing his biceps shamelessly. “Nuh uh, Buck. No hiding. I wanna see you looking wet and delicious.”

“Steve, you’re fucking disgusting,” Bucky choked out, wriggling but mostly resigned that once Steve had him this boxed in, there was no way to escape.

Steve just nuzzled and licked some more, letting Bucky feel how turned on he was, how much he didn’t care about Bucky’s embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m gross. Gross about you.”

He felt fingers dig into his back as Bucky tried to lean up to wipe his face on Steve’s chest and paused to let him, delighted by the way he could feel every little breath and shiver. Once Bucky was done using his chest as a towel, he brought one hand up to find soft curls and bury his fingers in them, feeling out where Bucky’s jaw and ear were to guess the right aim for his lips.

Once he found them, their kiss was long and slow, which was getting difficult for Steve by this stage, after everything. He was usually good at waiting for the perfect moment, but as Bucky’s fingernails dug deeper into his muscles and a kittenish tongue licked against his, Steve found himself helplessly rutting down.

Humming against Bucky’s mouth, he bit into the soft flesh of a plump lip before pulling back just far enough to mumble, “Wanna feel this mouth on me.”

Bucky arched up into him, “Let me put it on you then.”

He was breathless and Steve pushed down against him harder, clutching at his hair, delighted to find when he opened his eyes that Bucky was visible again. The remnants of Steve’s spit was still wetting his face, but he was smiling a little and tugging on Steve’s hair.

“I’m gonna say something nasty,” Steve dipped to kiss him quickly, “but don’t vanish, okay. Lemme be nasty.”

Bucky snorted but nodded, too, so Steve pushed their foreheads together and gazed into his eyes.

“I wanna make you choke on my cock, and then I wanna come on your face.”

Bucky groaned theatrically, rolling his eyes, but there was also a glorious blush on his cheeks that only grew when Steve grinned down at him in delight.

“You’re so fucking nasty…” was muttered mutinously, as Steve kissed at his cheeks and nipped at his lip.

“Can I, though?” Steve wheedled. It wasn’t like Bucky hadn’t had Steve’s dick pretty far down his throat before, but following the spanking and the spitting, it felt like they had shifted their dynamic. Steve knew that mouth could do magical things, and the longer Bucky arched against him, the more desperate he was becoming to test the limits of just how long his little, invisible sweetheart could hold his breath.

Bucky found that there was something he could reach with his hands, even caged in by Steve’s bulging arms. He slid his light fingers beneath Steve’s shirt and under the waistband of his pants, aligning his cool fingers with the bulge of Steve’s cock and squeezing. “Steve, there is nothing I’d like more than to gag myself on your cock,” he said mockingly.

With a growing smirk on his face and Bucky’s hand on his dick, Steve smacked one last kiss to Bucky’s nose before rolling them over in one quick movement, lifting Bucky off the bed. “How do ya want me?”

Licking his lips, Bucky sat back on his knees, taking in all of the disordered mess that made up Steve after at least an hour of hard make-outs, spanking and jacking off. He grasped the hem of Steve’s pants, tugging, “To start with, I want these gone.”

The pants went, then the shirt, underwear following shortly after, impatiently tugged free of his feet with a flourish and tossed somewhere out of sight. Steve helped enthusiastically, getting himself naked as fast as possible, cock springing to attention between his spread thighs. Bucky eyed it with interest, shifting forward to get his hands on Steve’s thighs, leaning himself down on them like a cat settling into its favourite spot, nuzzling at the pale, warm flesh just above Steve’s knee.

“You gonna choke me on that big dick of yours?” he asked with breathy sarcasm, deliberately slitting his eyes and licking his lips lewdly. Dirty talk was a great ironic pleasure of Bucky’s—in that he adored getting fucked in creative and filthy ways while Steve doused him in dirty-talk, but seemed to absolutely hate talking about getting fucked if it was in any tone other than dripping, cutting sarcasm.

Steve chuckled and closed his thighs to catch Bucky’s head between them, rocking it left and right, “Yeah, Buck. You may not know this about me,” he made his eyes wide and serious, “but I specifically wanna watch you drool all over my cock and then choke on my come.”

Bucky bit the squeal from his own mouth and shook his head, blushing.

“Oh,” Steve sank his hands into Bucky’s hair, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re incapable of asking for what you want seriously. I’ll just have to decide for you.”

“Hey!” Bucky protested.

Steve released him from the iron grip of his supersoldier thighs and sat up enough to get a grip on the back of Bucky’s neck, gently pressing down until pink lips were just a few scant inches away from the matching pink and shiny tip of his dick.

Steve could feel the warm wash of breath on the sensitive head and hummed in anticipation. “Lemme watch you, Bucky,” he murmured, loosening his grip a little, giving back the freedom to move.

Bucky flicked his gaze up to Steve’s face and back down to the cock that was very much in his face. He smiled. And even if this strange, embarrassed slip of a man who was as insubstantial as smoke refused to talk dirty, he sure did know how to smile filthy.

Opening his lips, Bucky pressed his warm mouth to the hard flesh, leaning in languidly and extending his tongue. Steve held his breath and watched as brown hair fell forward over Bucky’s face. He didn’t protest when Steve immediately pushed his fingers into it to pull it back, desperate to just keep watching.

Maybe there was a little moan of protest when Steve pressed his fingers to the seam of the lips stretched on his cock, but Steve quickly dampened it with a shushing sound, “Oh no baby, let me— hng. Oh fuck, you are _perfect_.”

It felt like he had been hanging on for hours now, all the patience he had exercised, while he worked out his play on the sofa, making sure Bucky was comfortable with a little punishment, was leaving him. He knew he sounded desperate and wrecked as all control over his reactions drained out of him, and when Bucky glanced shyly up at him, letting his fingers squeeze the soft skin at the top of Steve’s thighs, it just felt like the most natural thing in the world to tighten his fingers and let praise fall from his mouth with wild abandon.

“Buck. Baby. You’re the best. So sweet, so hot— hmmmmm, _fuck_ —all that tongue for me? You’re so fucking _good_ ,” he rambled, “Oh, look at you, drooling all over it, no one ever looked so fucking good deepthroating a cock, baby, _fuck_.”

Bucky was blushing furiously, but more importantly, he was trying so fucking hard, Steve noted though his haze of more-more-more and yes-yes-yes. A devious tongue flicked side to side over the fat vein that laced the underside of his cock, sending a shiver down his thighs. The tight heat of Bucky’s throat enclosed the head of his dick as Bucky leaned his body forward, shoulders hunching a little and taking him _so deep_ , swallowing, wrapping long, strong fingers around his balls to roll them and then tug just as Steve felt them tighten.

After a few moments holding himself right there, Bucky pulled back a little, relaxing his spine and tipping his head back, slurping up until he freed the cock from his lips and took a very complementary gasp of breath.

Steve gazed down at him and groaned in ecstasy. His lips were coated in spit and pre-come, his cheeks bright red with shame and lust—Steve wanted to take a picture so badly but he also really needed Bucky to, “Oh fuck, _don’t stop now, baby, please_.”

Bucky blew gently over the sensitive head of his cock and it wrenched a deep moan from his mouth. Bucky looked ever so slightly smug as he wrapped his lips back around the head to suckle a little, warming up the flesh he had just cooled with his breath.

Pulling back just enough to be able to speak, head tipped back to keep the head of Steve’s dick against his lips, Bucky blinked up at him, “You wanna fuck my face, yeah?” tone flat, as if he had been waiting all day for some goddamn help.

Steve almost lost it completely, one hand shoved behind himself into the bedclothes to push him up, the other closing into a fist in sweaty curls as he swore and shoved Bucky’s head back down. “Oh my God, you filthy, dirty thing. Buck– _y_.”

Bucky relaxed his throat and opened his mouth wider, giving up on any attempts to lick or suck for himself, just letting Steve move his head via the grip in his hair.

“That mouth, Buck,” Steve clenched his abs and slid his other hand to cup Bucky’s flushed cheek, thumbing down his nose, gently. “Nothing as gorgeous as–” he broke off, moaning unabashedly, panting “–my come dripping from that mouth.”

Bucky’s throat vibrated around him, and Steve realised that there were no longer long, clever fingers at his hips. Bucky had pressed his hands back between his legs, shifting one palm against his length while the other hand cupped the head of his cock. That sucking dick turned his adorable, troubled little boyfriend on this hard and fast made something scalding unfurl in Steve’s belly.

“I think I’m gonna borrow your breath for a little while,” He was amazed his voice was so steady as he said it, letting his thumb press ever so slightly against the yielding flesh of Bucky’s nose to show what he meant. “You want that sweet boy?”

Maybe he was going off-script, maybe he was being stupid to just ask for something this dangerous right in the middle of fucking Bucky’s face, but as he paused the movement of Bucky’s head, holding him between his palms, he knew from the calm, grey gaze that leveled with him that this was the only time he could ask. This was the only time Bucky ever seemed to let go of his reservations.

Bucky blinked up at him, tongue flat and hot on the head of Steve’s dick, soft and pliant. Then he nodded.

“Say it, sweet boy,” Steve begged.

The tongue licked then lips kissed at the tip of his cock.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky whispered, grinding his palm down into his lap, “Yeah, take it.”

Then he opened his lips wide again and sank back down, humming, lifting one hand to press his fingers to Steve’s where they lay against his face.

“Ohh,” Steve smiled as Bucky moved with him, their fingers shifting together until they cut off any breath.

Bracing his feet on the bed, it was so frighteningly easy to press Bucky’s head down until his cock was deep in a warm throat. The sensation was like nothing else, and as Bucky gulped around him, so unbearably hot and wet, saliva dripping from his lips, Steve found himself detaching from the scene. He was absolutely certain he would rewind this in his mind and rewatch it a thousand times. Because this fiercely burning feeling in his gut was a power, and the way Bucky was turning to putty in his hands was feeding it.

“All mine,” he growled, feeling the rising sensation of his impending release beginning to intensify. “Aw, Bucky,” he hissed.

Only a few moments had passed, certainly no more than a minute, but Steve pushed his hand back suddenly, pulling Bucky’s mouth off his cock and holding him there, a string of glistening spit and come connecting them. Bucky sucked in a breath, letting it out a wet gasp, his eyes burning with something as they stared up at him, wide and glassy.

Pulling their twined hands away from Bucky’s nose, Steve wrapped them around his dripping cock. Bucky squeezed his grip encouragingly, huffing damp, ragged breaths. Shaking back his hair as Steve stroked himself with increasing urgency.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

And Bucky was touching himself too, urgent and rough, his head tipped back and his lips so swollen and red. “Steve,” he was smirking, licking his lips, “Come on, come on.”

And finally, growling and almost choking on it, Steve did. It was intense, his whole body taught, and seemed to go on forever. Staring down at Bucky’s face, he marvelled at the soft openness there even as Steve’s come painted it with white streaks. His expression was unbearably vulnerable and his eyes were wide and filled with something longing.

“Oh, Bucky,” he whispered, moving his hand in the last exquisite few strokes on his dick. The other hand found its way to Bucky’s face before he knew it, pushing through the stripes of thick, white come, pushing some of it messy around and into Bucky’s waiting mouth.

“Mm,” was all Bucky said, but he lifted himself slowly from his knees on the bed and began crawling up Steve’s body again. That was when he noticed that Bucky’s cock was softening, cradled in his hand, his second release joining the first in a new layer of streaky wetness on his stomach and fist. As he crawled, he found some piece of their clothing to wipe his handful off on, before collapsing in an ungainly heap on Steve’s chest.

They lay together for a while, Bucky catching his breath. Steve knew he was capable of holding it for almost unbelievable lengths of time, as well as breathing so quietly that nothing could detect the sound, but it was probably to be expected that after going two rounds of handjobs plus having a dick down his throat and his breath smothered, even Bucky’s ability to process oxygen quietly had been outstripped.

Steve stroked his hair and laid kisses the loose, come-covered hand that he found on his chest, clasping their fingers together and squeezing.

Bucky squeezed back, weakly, but still a squeeze.

“I’m gonna clean you up now, okay?” Steve found himself pitching his tone down to the soft one people usually used to speak to easily spooked cats. More audibly, he asked JARVIS to run the bath.

Bucky peeked up at him, his glassy eyes starting to sharpen up a little, but his mouth still slack and soft. “Steve,” he started, and then hiccuped.

And then burst into tears.

Steve’s heart stopped dead. It vacated his chest entirely. It turned into a black hole and tried to suck his innards into space to be frozen in an endless vacuum. He sat up abruptly, bumping Bucky’s head and shoulder accidentally in his haste to wrap both arms around him and cradle him, checking him everywhere for hurts, instantly panicking that everything had just gone way too far. “Bucky. Buck, oh baby, no. What’s wrong,” he pleaded.

Bucky shook his head, but he slowly turned himself to cling right around Steve’s middle, pushing his face right into where it currently felt like Steve’s heart was attempting to cease existing, it hurt so much. “No,” he mumbled wetly, “N-No.”

“No what, baby? No you didn’t like that? It’s okay, Bucky, I’m so sorry… I’m so _fucking_ sorry I didn’t mean–” Steve tried desperately to keep the shake from his voice, “I didn’t mean for it to go that far, it’s all my fault. We never ever need to do it again. I’m so–”

“No,” Bucky said, stronger this time, still full of tears, but much more certain. “No, Steve, don’t say sorry.”

Steve clutched at him, pushing his hair back and trying to see his face, “Buck,” he heard the heartbreak in his own voice, “Buck, please just tell me what I did wrong.”

Bucky took a great sniff and finally raised his head far enough to let Steve see him, scrubbing at his face. He smiled a little and tried to laugh through his tears and ruined throat. “No, Steve,” he was putting every bit of assurance and certainly he had into his voice now, Steve could tell. “I’m–” he took a great sniff, “I’m crying because I’ve never felt like this before and–” more sniffing, “I think it just… surprised me a bit.”

Steve continued to smooth and clutch at him, but Bucky didn’t seem to be done talking, so he bit his lip on the continued apologies he wanted to let loose.

“I’m going to… Would it be alright if I was invisible,” Bucky covered his eyes with one hand, pretending to wipe his tears, but mostly hiding, “I just… please. Is that alright?”

Steve gulped, “Yes, of course, Buck.” He did keep his arms quite securely around Bucky, though, and he dearly hoped that he wasn’t going to ask to be let go.

He seemed alright with simply cloaking himself in transparency, though, letting himself shiver out of visibility with a small, damp sigh. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Steve continued running his fingers through the ruin of Bucky’s hair, full of sweat and tangles now, but still comfortingly soft and real in his hands.

He felt Bucky take a deep, shaky breath.

“Ugh. _I’m_ sorry, Steve. I’m… sorry for all of this bullshit.” There was a long pause. Then Bucky’s voice came back smaller, “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

Steve squeezed his arms hard enough to make his captive gasp, then relaxed just a little, “Bucky. I don’t _put up_ with you. I’m actually trying really hard to cling on to you.” He was a little less panicked now, sensing that Bucky just wanted to talk and be comfortable. And finally get things off his chest, maybe, but they weren’t going to get far if Bucky spent every second sentence reversing whatever he had said in the one before. “Just, please. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

He felt the body in his arms shiver, “‘Kay. Well. I feel… I feel good. It all felt… really good, Steve. But that’s just it, it felt…” there was a long, agonizing pause and Steve swore he could hear Bucky’s teeth grinding. Eventually, he huffed and said, “I guess I just got a bit… overwhelmed?”

The only sound was the bath running in the ensuite next door, the soft glow of the bathroom light seeping into the room and illuminating the ruffled bedclothes and scattered bits of clothing that had made it to the bedroom with them. It felt like hours ago Steve had fed Bucky on his knees and then bent him over and spanked him.

“I think that’s probably not so unusual when you experience this kind of stuff for the first time,” Steve tried to sound calm, but anxiousness still had a claw around his throat, making his spine stiff.

He suddenly felt warm lips at his throat, a soft, lingering kiss laid there by invisible lips.

Bucky hummed before pulling back just enough to say, “Yeah. And… you sorta went _in_ , Steve.”

“I’m sor–”

“No!” A very gentle smack hit his bicep, then Bucky went back to kissing his clavicle between words, “No. I just meant… It was a lot. The punishment? Which I don’t really want to call a punishment because– Uhm. I guess…”

He trailed off.

Rocking him gently from side to side, Steve prompted, “You don’t want to call it a punishment because it felt good? Maybe?”

Bucky nodded. Then he must have remembered he was invisible and said, “Yeah. And then going one round, and then– y’know, you, fucking my face like that and… Yeah.”

They sat together like that for a while, Bucky laying the occasional, whimsical little kiss to some part of Steve’s chest, as if to remind him that he was there.

“Did I do anything you… didn’t like?” Steve eventually asked.

“I don’t—No. No, I liked all of it.”

“Even, y’know, being visible?”

Bucky sighed and Steve felt him rub his forehead with his fingers, knowing the familiar movement as well as he knew his own palm.

He tried to make his tone as even as possible, “Earlier you said that it’s not that you don’t want me to know where you are, but something else?” Maybe it was weird that in the middle of literally spanking his boyfriend’s ass, he was cataloguing his little confessions, but hey. Steve wasn’t going to hide anything, and the way Bucky had said it had been telling.

The strange static of Bucky fizzling back into visibility made spots dance in his eyes. But before he could blink to clear them, large silvery eyes were pinned on his. Bucky placed his hands on his shoulders and stared right into him.

“No one has ever seen me like you do, Steve. Not like, how you have a fucking creepy AI that can heat-sig me, I mean see me. And… I hate what you can see when you look at me.” One single fat tear, the last one, dripped down Bucky’s cheek. He ignored it, a little line between his brows betraying his fierce determination. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m used to being alone. And I was kinda not ready for what it would feel like when someone got hold of me and refused to let me—I dunno—be alone anymore?”

Steve took a moment to blink back down at the determined face with a chin to his chest, then he leaned down to press a short kiss to still-shiny lips. “I understand,” he whispered.

And he did. Bucky hadn’t told him anything about his past, but he was beginning to think that it hadn’t had many people in it. He used his own strange set of social cues and his own frame of reference for things, which just didn’t line up with those of people who lived in the midst of the world like Steve always had, even if it had been across two different centuries. The idea of being visible publicly, available for anyone to see, was one that Bucky didn’t even seem to contemplate. As if it wasn’t even possible.

Bucky sighed and smiled, his bruised, swollen eyes crinkling at the corners through the damp of his leftover tears. There was still some mess on his cheek and Steve gathered him up properly again and slid from the bed. “Come on,” ignored the squawk of protest Bucky made at being carried like a child, knowing it was purely performative, “let get this dirty, kinky boy cleaned up.”

The bathroom was full of warm, soft light and inviting curls of steam rose from the perfectly scalding water in the bathtub. He dumped Bucky on the countertop, reaching for a washcloth to dunk in the bathwater and get them both at least free of obvious come stains before they got in, smiling at the groan of pain that greeted very pink ass cheeks meeting a hard, marble countertop.

While he was gently wiping at the collected tears, come and sweat making a mess on Bucky’s cheeks, cradling the weight of his head, Steve chuckled to himself.

“What?” Bucky demanded, frowning adorably while unable to keep his eyes open.

“I was just thinking,” Steve mused, “how we’re gonna need a safe word.”

Bucky groaned, “And that made you _laugh_?”

Steve dropped the cloth and shoved his way between Bucky’s thighs to pin him to the mirror and nuzzle at his neck hungrily. “Yeah, because I’m fucking delighted.”

“I think you’re the filthy, kinky one here.”

Bucky didn’t protest at all, though, when Steve’s teeth sank into his shoulder as he moved them to the bath, where they could luxuriate in the tender aftermath of all that was laid bare by a few slaps and a little breathlessness.

Steve knew that this was just one small, ridiculous day in their relationship, but he felt more like a real person than he had in a long time. They hadn’t argued, so much as Bucky had avoided even the possibility of an argument, but maybe it was okay to be like that. For them. For now. Maybe this was a terrible idea, and he should have called security the moment he had found an invisible man in his apartment inside the most secure building in the world, but he hadn’t and that was okay. For now.

The bath water was full of bubbles and Bucky as they lay against one another in the luxuriously large tub, heated, to keep them from giving up the lap of luxury too soon. Bucky stayed visible and seemed mostly asleep, one hand clasping Steve’s under the water, the other absently swiping sweat from where it continuously gathered on his forehead in the scalding steam. Steve pushed damp, heavy curls back from his forehead, enjoying the view.

“My safeword is gonna be _Superman_ ,” Bucky said suddenly.

Steve gasped in horror, “I’m hearing ‘ _please, Steve, spank me again, Captain America! Spank me harder!_ ’” Steve mimicked affectionately, laughing while Bucky made a futile attempt to drown him.

Yeah, this was more than okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the three horsement of my personal apocalypse, [Brokenwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokenwords/pseuds/Brokenwords), [scrambledscript](https://twitter.com/scrambledscript) and [sumblimepigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublimepigeon/pseuds/sublimepigeon) who all did varying levels of vaguely beta-ing this work, but mostly cheered me on writing it.
> 
> Come play with me on Twitter [@im_weapon](https://twitter.com/im_weapon).  
> I also made a Tumblr for sharing fic and recieving any questions or requests: [Weaponized](https://im-weapon.tumblr.com/)


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